Easter
by Sapphire Jacqueline Stone
Summary: Based of some scenes of my favorite Christmas movie, but with some tweaking, it works as an Easter one, too. Rachel meets an old friend with help from a Genie, and it looks to be a nice, cheerful Easter. Only one problem: James and Rachel are in prison. Would their evening get fixed in the end, or will James get lynched?


Based of on a few scenes from Bernard and the Genie

**AN: This little story comes from a Christmas Movie I like, and I think, towards the end, it's quite funny.**

"So," said Josephus, "what's next?"

"Well," Rachel said, looking rather thoughtful. "I haven't meet up with my school friends for years. It would be nice if one of them were here." She was being careful enough to not say the word "Wish."

"Like whom?" the Genie asked.

"A boy who I thought was very cute, and exceptionally good-looking. His name is James Guthrie, and he works as a record producer somewhere. In fact, I wish he was here," she said, and stood up.

Abruptly, Rachel was shoved to the ground by a group of rowdy teenagers, and she yelled.

"Watch where you kids are going!" came a yell, before a hand appeared in front of her face. "Are you alright, miss?"

Rachel's heart almost stopped at the sound of that familiar London accent, and she looked up into a warm, handsome face.

"James?" she asked, accepting his hand, and pulled herself up.

He looked at her, his brow furrowed. It cleared when he recognized the vibrant green eyes that belonged to only one person he knew.

"Rachel Turner," he smiled, before giving her a hug.

She smiled back, and turned to her new friend. "Josephus, this is my old school friend, James."

"Well, aren't you good-looking?" He smiled, and James flushed.

Rachel chuckled at that, and said, "How's your job going?"

James grinned at her. "Excellent. I've been made record producer for one of the best rock bands out there, and I've worked with them since I was twenty-five."

"I wish I had a copy of a record by said band," Rachel said, and there was a crashing sound.

Some way away from them, a young woman had just been given an album by her boyfriend. "There you are, darling. Some of the best music around," he said, and she gave him a look of disgust.

"Pink Floyd? Really, Ryan? This is a piece of garbage," she said, most ungratefully. Ryan just laughed.

"Only joking, this is the real album," he said, and handed her the album for the musical "Grease."

"Oh, that's much better," she chuckled, and hugged him."But what am I going to do with this Pink Floyd one?"

Rachel's ears pricked up at hearing those words. She absolutely adored Pink Floyd, and had "Animals," "Dark Side of the Moon," and her absolute favorite "The Wall."

"Can I have it? I love Pink Floyd," she said.

"Sure," said the girl, and handed it to her. As Rachel took it, she looked at Ryan, and gasped.

"Ryan," she said coldly.

Ryan had been her boyfriend, but had broken up with her. And why? Because Rachel wasn't a fan of musicals, and Ryan hated Pink Floyd.

"Rachel," he nodded at her, before wrapping an arm around his new girlfriend, and they left.

"Old boyfriend," she said, and the other two nodded in agreement.

"Anyway, why am I holding this? Surely, James, you didn't produce this."

"Oh, didn't I?" James asked with a charming grin, and took a torch out of his jacket. He turned the album over and showed her the names of the two producers: Bob Ezrin and himself.

"No way," Rachel gasped in astonishment, and grinned. "That's so cool, James. Can I have your autograph?"

"Sure thing. Do you have a pen?"

"Not with me, but I was wondering, James, if you'd like to spend Easter with me. Normally, I'd be with Ryan and his family, but that's out of the question now."

"I'd love to spend Easter with you, Rachel," He smiled.

"Great. Well, Josephus, I'd like to go home and check out Mona again."

James' brow furrowed at that, but he didn't say anything.

"What a good idea, but I have a better idea. Why don't you and James go home and check out Mona, and I'll go and see that movie again." He said cheerfully.

James and Rachel made their way back with the flying carpet, laughing and talking about all sorts of things. Rachel was very impressed that it had taken James only five years to get noticed by a big band like Pink Floyd.

"In "Empty Spaces" there's a backwards message. I have the reverse version, as well. It's funny, and deliberate," he told her as they entered her apartment.

"Can't wait to hear it," she smiled, and was just about to climb the stairs, when James flung out an arm.

"Hold it, there's someone in your flat," he said, pointing. Indeed, there was a sharp silhouette on the wall.

"That's all I need," Rachel said, as James led her up the stairs, into her flat, and grabbed something hard and solid, which he then swung violently through the air.

There came a cry, and a body fell to the ground. As the light flicked on, James realized, much to his horror, he had picked up a scimitar, swung it, and brutally murdered a police officer.

"Sorry," he gasped out, just as Rachel cried out.

As he stammered, another officer came towards him, and took the sword from him.

"I'll take that, if you don't mind. We don't need anyone else brutally assaulted, do we?"

Rachel, finding her tongue, said, "Sorry, but is there any reason why you're here?"

"Yes, Miss Turner, there is. You see, you're about to be accused of..."

"Grand theft," came a voice that Rachel had no trouble recognizing as that of her ex-boss.

"Hello, sir. What are you doing here?" She asked, folding her arms.

"Well, I thought I'd pop in and have an Easter drinkie with you, when I found this list of priceless paintings you stole from our office. Then, I happened to inspect the walls, and discovered this dear lady." He flicked on the light switch to reveal the Mona Lisa.

"So that's the "Mona" you were talking about," James said, and then realized what must have happened. Rachel had asked Josephus for it, and it had appeared. Of course, it looked like that she'd stolen it.

"Do you recognize that picture?" Asked an officer.

"Yes, of course," Rachel said. "I worked for an art firm, how could I not?"

"It was stolen from the Louvre earlier today," said her ex-boss.

"And somehow, it's made it's way here."

"I can explain it," she said, but James gave her a look. No one would believe the story that a Genie had given it to her. Catching his gaze, she then added, "Actually, I can't. I wish it wasn't here."

The painting stayed where it was. Twice, Rachel made the same wish, and just for the heck of it, James wished for a chocolate Easter bunny. However, the painting stayed, and James had no chocolate.

Obviously, their friend couldn't hear them.

"No chocolate, and I'm afraid the painting is still here," said one officer, and handcuffed both James and Rachel.

PAGE BREAK

However, if they thought getting arrested for Grand Theft and killing a Police Officer was bad enough, they had another thing coming to them. Just after one in the morning, a police officer and three men walked into their cell. Rachel had somehow managed to fall asleep and then tumbled to the stone floor. She woke up when they came in.

"Which of you has the surname Guthrie?" The officer asked, and James said, "That would be me, what do you want?"

"I'm sorry, Sir, but there is an odd, and not very nice, law in England about how murderers are charged on public holidays. At seven this morning, we are going to take you out the back, and lynch you."

James went pale at that.

"Any last requests?" Asked the officer.

"A Bible, a bucket, and an alarm call, thanks," he said.

"Well, you already have a bucket, but we can get you those other things. Why do you want a bucket?"

In answer, James quickly leaned down, and the contents of his stomach came up and out.

The four men left quickly, while Rachel rubbed her friend's back as he violently threw up.

"Surely there's something we can do," she said, and James shook his head.

Soon, a Bible and an alarm clock, set for ten to seven, were placed in the cell.

Whilst James was praying for help and forgiveness in equal measures, Rachel wondered what had happened to their other friend. She didn't have long to ponder, for soon enough, the door opened again, and Josephus was shoved in.

"Get in there, smartarse," snapped the officer.

Cheekily, Josephus responded, "Anything you say, smart uniform." He then turned, and saw Rachel and James, and greeted them jovially.

"Where have you been?"

"Here," they answered together.

"Funny choice. It has a certain cooky charm, colorful toilet," to preserve some modesty, they had had the bucket replaced, "and those guys out there are fun," he said happily.

"It's not a choice," Rachel said, her voice breaking. "We are in real trouble. We could spend the rest of our lives in prison, apart from James, it's no joke."

"No joke? Not amusing?" He said breaking into a dance that would have made them laugh. They shook their heads.

"What happened?" He asked, sitting beside Rachel.

"Oh, it's too depressing to explain. Even with a Genie, I'm a disaster. When we got home last night , I was arrested for nicking the Mona Lisa. The only boyfriend I'll get now is five foot two with a big beard."

"What about James?" The Genie asked.

"I killed a police officer. Now, at seven, they're going to kill me. Poor bastard, and his family. Leaves home nine a.m. in a Panda Car, comes back home at midnight in a plastic bag, murdered by a record producer with a scimitar," he said, his voice also on the verge of breaking.

"I should have been there," said Josephus.

"We wish you had," they said in unison.

PAGE BREAK- Again

With an almighty crash, the three were flung back a few hours, and James and Rachel were still holding the magic carpet and a copy of Pink Floyd's "The Wall" was wedged under Rachel's arm.

"You can do that!?" James asked in astonishment and delight.

"For you two? Anything," he said, and James smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. Again, he went before Rachel, leaving Rachel to say, "Let's make him look like a smacked arse, figuratively."

She whispered something in Josephus's ear, and then added, "But wait until I tell you to."

They headed up, and all three walked into Rachel's apartment, grinning.

"Good evening, officers. Good evening," Rachel greeted them happily, and shook hands.

"Good evening, Miss Turner," said one.

"Hi. Sorry, is there something wrong?"

"Yes, there is, Miss Turner. You're just about to be accused of..."

"Grand theft," said her ex-boss.

She turned to him with a smile. "Oh, hello, sir. What brings you here?"

"Well, I thought I'd pop in and have an Easter drinkie with you. Then, I happened to inspect the walls,"

"Now," Rachel said to Josephus under her breath, and he nodded.

"And discovered this dear lady," he said, flipping the switch. Rachel had had the last laugh though. She had asked the genie to make it a picture of James.

The man in question, realizing what Rachel had done, turned to him, and screamed: "My hair might be long, but never, and I mean, never, have I been so insulted in my life by being called a "dear lady."

"Hold up. You told us it was the Mona Lisa," said one officer, and James blinked.

"Oh, I see. Do you mind if I sign this?" He asked.

"No," and James began to scrawl his name.

As he did so, the telephone began to ring.

"Hello?" said the officer.

He listened for a moment, and then said "What?" in an incredulous way, before replacing the receiver.

"Apparently, the painting's been returned."

"What do you mean?" Asked Rachel's ex-boss.

"It's back in the Louvre. I think we owe these three an apology. Miss Turner, Mr. Guthrie," he said, seeing what James had written, "and Mr?" He asked Josephus.

"Smartarse," he responded.

As the officers began to leave, one apologized. "Yes, sorry to disturb you all, Mr. Smartarse. We'll be off now."

"Thank God for that. I can't think of anything we'd like to do less than spend the evening with scum like you."

James and Rachel looked at him, aghast.

"Come again, sunshine?"

"Yes. You are obviously a slime-bag, living proof that man is directly related to the slug," he said, and turned to the other officer. "And your face looked familiar when I first saw it, and now I remember seeing something similar whilst washing down the hind quarters of a camel."

"You WHAT!?"

Finally, he turned to Rachel's ex-boss. "And you, are a very large turd, in a horrible pink shirt."

"I beg your bloody pardon?" He said, while Rachel and James cringed. Josephus came back to them, and said, "Do you wish I'd never said any of that?"

"Yep," they chuckled.

There was another crash, and soon, Josephus was saying goodbye.

"Well, goodbye, gentlemen. It's nice to you. An honor to the force, both of you."

"Thanks, Governor. And Happy Easter."

"Bye," they all said, and James rushed over to the other officer and hugged him.

"I'm so pleased I didn't kill you. It's great to see you're still alive."

The officer was bewildered, and couldn't think of anything else to say, but, "Yes. Right," before leaving, thoroughly confused.

"Goodbye, Sir. Lovely shirt. Although, I do wish I hadn't taken that list."

Crash, again, and her ex-boss hunted in his pockets.

"But do pop around for a drink anytime, and give the PM one for me," she said, clicking her tongue and lightly punching him.

"Certainly. Thank you, Miss Turner. Thank you, sirs."

"Bye-bye," they said, and Rachel pointed him out of her flat.

Once he'd gone, the three cheered.

"My friends, I think it's going to be a very happy Easter," Josephus said, and the other two agreed wholeheartedly.

**AN: A little early for Easter, but I thought, why not have some fun silliness?**


End file.
